A simple world
by KingdomLei
Summary: A little trip in Shang's inner struggles. His world used to be simple and straightforward. Until Mulan showed up.
1. Parade

Standard disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

 **Parade**

There was music. Acrobats. Everything. It seemed all the people of China were cheering at the top of their lungs, overcome with joy, all of it for them - _the heroes of the Empire_. The parade had been going on for a while already and Shang just wished it would end quickly, so he could collapse on his bed with a bottle of wine and forget every second of his "great victory".

But it was part of the job, the parade, the posturing, all of it. It was about giving the good people of China what they needed to feel safe and happy. He would just have to endure it a little longer.

He had already given his report, related every event for the chief military advisor and the rest of the council. They were so very pleased, congratulating each other.

A glorious day!

Oh, Shang wasn't about to forget that day. It had started as the worst of his life, and from there, it had gone downhill.

First, the pain and dismay of finding the massacred Chinese army, with his father's body lying down there at the mercy of the crows. There was no time for mourning, no time to bury anyone. The Huns were out there, and the only thing between them and the imperial city was Shang and his handful of men.

Oh, Shang knew he was being suicidal when he went after the Huns. He knew that he and his men would likely all die. What could they possibly do against an enemy that had so easily defeated a much bigger army of seasoned soldiers? But he had to try.

Second, that rocket going off by itself, blowing what little chance they had to surprise the enemy. From there on, there wasn't even the flicker of a chance to survive. So Shang decided to do what he could: as much damage to the Huns as possible, to increase the chance that someone else would stop them once they arrived in the plains. Yes, if they killed enough of them, then China might endure, and eventually defeat them. But Shang, and all the men he had painfully trained for the past weeks, were going to meet their end here, in the snow. Of course, it was their duty. It didn't make the prospect enjoyable, though.

At that point, Shang was fairly sure that his day could not become any worse. Because what can be worse than being dead?

Well Ping was about to demonstrate that he lacked imagination.

What to say about Ping? The clumsy but bright kid had one of his crazy ideas, which worked unexpectedly well. They ended up not only destroying the Hun army, but also, thanks to some incredible strokes of luck, to stay alive. There were no words to describe Shang's gratitude for the awkward little brat. But he'd managed to get himself hurt, so that gratitude quickly drowned in anguish.

It would be so unfair, Shang thought while pacing in front of the medical tent. It would be so unfair for Ping to die now. He was the weakest out of the whole bunch of men Shang received in his care. But despite it, or maybe because of it, he was also the bravest and most resilient out of all of them. His arms weren't the strongest, but his heart was made of steel. In the training camp, he'd kept trying when even Shang had given up on him. On the battlefield, he'd kept fighting when everyone else was already contemplating their death. The word "impossible" didn't seem to be a part of his vocabulary. He had saved them all, and deserved a better reward than an early grave.

Then the doctor came out of the tent.

"How is he?"

"Fine," the doctor said, "the wound isn't deep. However, I think you should know that your young soldier is a woman."

Shang's mind went blank with shock. He'd lost his father and nearly died two or three times, all of that in the span of a few hours, and now… what?

He walked into the tent, unable to make sense of this. Ping sat up, and gave him all the confirmation he needed. Shang was trying to think of how to deal this situation, when Chi Fu barged into the tent.

Shang walked out, both furious and utterly confused. He wanted to strangle Ping, to strangle Chi Fu, to strangle the damn doctor. Ten minutes ago he was praying the gods to spare Ping's life and now… now it was his duty to kill him. He was the most ranked officer, he had to apply the law, and the law was very clear on this. Women and slaves were not allowed to serve in the army. Using deception to get a commission was punishable by death.

Behind his back, Chi Fu was throwing Ping in the snow, exposing her and insulting her - why wasn't it punishable by death to be an insufferable, despicable rat? Shang would have gladly obliged.

"My name is Mulan!" she answered to his insults.

He'd been so stupid! The high pitched voice, the strange behaviors, that slander body… he should have seen it. On that first day at the camp, she'd spent an entire minute working out what her name was supposed to be. There was no hesitation in her voice now.

Mulan.

Soon-to-be-dead Mulan.

He had no choice. No choice! The law was the law. He couldn't change the law. All he could do was apply it. In that instant, he truly hated her for putting him in that situation.

"I did it to save my father. I had to do it!"

That was the last stroke. Shang's heart broke into little pieces. Of course, Fa Zhu was old, injured, and he had no son. Anyone could tell that this war would be his last. Shang understood her desperation. Yes, he even understood her choice. This was, after all, the heart of steel who would never give up. Who would always find a way out. Who would try the craziest ideas rather than stand there and watch people die. Any other daughter would have stayed home to cry and pray, but not her.

"Captain!" Chi Fu demanded.

Yes. He was the captain, wasn't he? His men. His duty.

Shang unsheathed Mulan's sword. He could see on her face that she expected to die. He was still working out what to do - what to say - walking up to her. She lowered her head. He stood there in front of her, the sword in his hand, watching her pale figure waiting to die by his hand.

No.

He'd rather be agonising at the bottom of that cliff than do that. He'd rather be hanged or burned than go through with this.

He threw the sword at her feet. Then he turned his back on her, managed to not punch Chi Fu despite the burning rage inside him, and rallied his men. Very nearly running away.

If she had any trace of common sense, he told himself, she would go straight home and make sure to let everyone forget about her. Because there was no way he could conceal this situation - not without drowning Chi Fu in a river somewhere, anyway - and once the official report arrived in the appropriate hands, Shang had no idea how far his protection would reach.

And indeed, once back in the imperial city, it was not long before he had to explain himself. Chi Fu had filed a complaint against his decision to let her live.

Until that day, Shang had been a rather… straightforward person. He had been raised like that. His world was simple: Follow the rules. Do your duty. Serve the Empire. Be honored and rewarded as a result. But on that day, when he bowed and begged for Mulan's life, something inside him became broken; something that would forever remain bitter and sarcastic. Very sorry, yes, the person who saved all of your powdered necks and manicured hands was of the wrong gender. Definitely a hideous crime, risking her life like that to protect her family and country, could give other people _ideas_. Yes, I know, the law is the law, my apologies, it will never happen again; but on the plus side, we are not being invaded by barbaric hordes, so perhaps that compensates?

You'd nearly think they were more afraid of women in armor than they were of the Huns.

The only thing Mulan's life hanged onto at that time, was that she had single-handedly defeated the entire Hun army. Nothing short of that would have make them overlook the matter. Given the circumstances, and as a favor to the Li family who had paid so high a price to protect the Empire, it was decided to agree to Shang's request, and keep the matter quiet.

So now, Shang was being paraded around, a bitter taste in his mouth. When he was younger, he had often pictured such a scene in his fantasies. So many naïve dreams of great deeds and honor. Captain Li Shang, hero of China! Now that he had it all, it was ridiculous, it had no meaning.

It was a lie.

How could he - _she_ \- lie to him like that! He wished his world had remained simple and ordered as it used to be. He wished Ping were there with him, at his rightful place. But Ping did not exist. Ping was a deception, and so was this cardboard triumph.

How he longed for that bottle of wine.

"Shang!"

He looked up at Mulan, shocked and angry. Didn't she understand her situation? What by the gods was she doing there? People were staring!

"The Huns are alive, they're in the city!"

The Huns? What was she talking about now? There were no Huns! No one could survive an avalanche like that, that was ridiculous. The war was over, and as soon as this stupid ceremony was ended, he was going to bed.

"Go home, Mulan."

"You have to believe me!"

He had to? After being lied to for weeks? This woman didn't doubt anything, did she? He told her as much, which earned him a stern glare.

"You trusted Ping. Why is Mulan any different?"

He couldn't find any intelligent answer to that question. Still lost in his anger, he rode past her without answering. He didn't want to deal with this now. He couldn't deal with this now.

It took him about three seconds to regret it. Then he turned back towards her, but he couldn't find her in the crowd.


	2. Homecoming

**Homecoming**

Shang was riding in the darkness, having been practically ordered to chase Mulan by his Emperor. Well, that was one order he was not going to complain about.

He had not had much time to sort out his feelings about the young woman. Too much had happened. She had saved his life (again) as well as all of China (again). Then Shang had done his best to save her neck from stupid bureaucrats, coming dangerously close to punching Chi Fu in the process (again). Thankfully, the Emperor himself was not a bureaucrat. He made the laws, and felt free to disregard them whenever it pleased him.

Mulan, now officially a war hero, had been honored as she deserved. She had hugged everyone, the Emperor, Yao, Ling, Chien Po, leaving Shang as the last remaining person to embrace, and he was just opening his arms as well when he caught her gaze and realized it.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't touch her, the very thought of her skin against his was too deviously tempting to allow. Something had changed in the middle of all the fight and confusion. Sometime in between nearly cutting Mulan's head off and stepping between her and the Emperor, he'd let his heart fall into her thin hands.

In the end, she left before Shang could put together a halfway coherent sentence, completely taken by surprise by his own feelings. He had never been a victim of timidity before. It was quite humiliating.

Now Mulan was on her way home, and he was following her. He could have caught up with her, but he still hadn't worked out what he was going to tell her, so he wasn't in any hurry.

Two days ago , when she was still the boy Ping, it was so much easier to talk to her. Although to be completely honest, there usually was more yelling than talking. But that was the issue, wasn't it? He'd hit her, pushed her, belittled her, and generally made her sweat until she collapsed from exhaustion. That was what any good instructor would have done, there was no reason to feel guilt about that, but that was hardly how you'd usually get to know the person you end up falling in love with. As far as Shang was aware, flowers were supposed to be involved. And jewelry. Possibly even poetry. You were supposed to show your best side in order for the other party to consider a lifetime with you. You were supposed to be polite, gentle, nice…

How was "nice" supposed to work out now? Mulan had pretty much seen the worst behavior Shang was capabale of. She'd known him harsh, merciless and dominating. How was he going to… compliment her eyes, or anything of that sort, without her falling into hysterical laughter?

He tried to dissociate Ping and Mulan in his mind, but it didn't work very well. He was in love with all of her. The cute girl and the young recruit. And anyway, he couldn't erase her memories of Captain Li Shang from hell, could he? To her, he would always be the man who beat down military discipline into her. The man who had _nearly_ sentenced her to death.

Two days later, when Mulan finally reached her family home, Shang still had no idea what he was going to tell her. He wondered for a few minutes what frightened him more: fighting the Hun army or knocking on that particular door.

* * *

Shang woke up the next morning in the guest room the Fa family had given to him. It could have gone worse, he thought. Everyone seemed happy to have him for dinner, including Mulan. Fa Zhu and his wife were pleasant hosts, and the evening passed quickly. The only problem was… he still had no idea how to talk with Mulan.

She had taken back her place as a young woman of the house the best she could, serving tea and bowing low. Her military education had left visible traces, though. She talked and laughed louder than any other girl her age would dare. She was at ease talking around men, not hiding behind her fan. She kept walking on the hem of her dress, no longer used to the small steps that her female clothing required. A stranger looking at the scene might have speculated that she was a young boy masquerading as a woman…

This made Shang feel even more confused.

He looked outside. It wasn't dawn yet, but he no longer felt like sleeping. He decided that a bit of early exercise might help clear up his mind. He stepped outside, took off his shirt, and grabbed a bamboo stick that was lying around. He was halfway through his morning routine when he saw her watching him.

"Good morning," she said.

Shang glanced at his abandoned shirt and felt very much naked.

"Sorry," he said, hurrying to grab it. "I didn't think you'd get up this early."

"Don't worry," she answered with an amused smile. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

"Haha, yes, that's true I guess," he said, now completely drowning in embarrassment. He put his shirt back on, binding it as tightly as humanly possible.

"May I join you, captain?"

She wasn't wearing a dress, he realized. She had a tunic and pants on, and was holding her own bamboo stick.

"You don't have to do this anymore," he told her.

"No, but I want to," she retorted. "After all, it took me through the war. I don't see what it couldn't take me through peace."

He wondered if she had trouble sleeping, too. Was something on her mind? He had never been very good at reading Ping, and it wasn't any easier now that she was Mulan. He nodded, and she took position at his side. They finished the form together, with nothing more than the sound of their breaths in the silent night. Her moves were smooth and precise. She still had many years to go to become an expert, but she was no longer the clumsy beginner who had walked in his training camp several weeks ago. When they were both finished, he looked at her - sweating, but not exhausted. All that training had paid off. But she had endured much more than any woman normally would, in order to achieve this.

"You must be happy," he said, "to be finally back home. Those weeks far from your family must have taken their toll on you."

She glanced at him and hesitated.

"It was tough," she said, "but it wasn't so bad. I had a purpose then."

"Do you not have one now?" he asked, surprised.

"Of course," she said. "Like every young woman. I must get married. I must become a good wife."

She stepped forward and swiftly slashed her stick downwards. Her moves were full of restrained rage.

"I must be quiet. Graceful."

Another step, an upward slash.

"Delicate."

A thrust.

"Refined."

She jumped and finished with a backslash.

"Demure. Did I forget anything?"

He was a little surprised at how bitter she sounded.

"You have other qualities," Shang told her. "You have more courage than anyone. You are intelligent, strong, sincere…"

"None of that matters in a kitchen."

Shang wanted to tell her that getting married wasn't necessarily about cooking or looking pretty, but he didn't find the words to explain himself. He could not muster the courage to discuss the topic of marriage with her.

She looked up at him, and a smile replaced the melancholy on her face.

"Let's spar," she offered.

"What?"

"Like old times."

"I don't know if that's a good id…"

"Please… captain."

His mind said no, but for some reason, his mouth said yes. He took his stance, trying to remember how easy it was to spar with Ping, like with any other young trainee. How many punches and bruises had he already inflicted on her? What would a few more mean? But he knew she was a woman now, and two decades of education were screaming in his mind that this was wrong. You didn't punch the girl you were in love with. Or anyone of the other sex, for that matter. It was shameful, ugly, dishonorable.

She attacked first and he parried. He dodged a few hits, walking back, then her fist connected with his jaw. He hadn't even managed one attempt at hitting her.

"Holding back on me, captain?"

She was frowning.

"No," he said. "Of course not." But he had always been a poor liar, and Mulan looked even more disappointed.

"Yes, you are. Why? Because I'm a woman?"

"Well…" Shang started, trying to think of an answer. He considered denying it, but he knew another pitiful lie would not appease her. The silence stretched uncomfortably while he failed once more at saying anything intelligent. Mulan sighed and ended his misery. She made a curt bow, her fist in her palm.

"My apologies. I forgot my place and made you uncomfortable."

Shang watched her walk back into the house, contemplating how much of an idiot he was.


End file.
